The Spider's Thread
by internallybrokendown
Summary: It all starts with an "unsent letter" to Satoru and things only go downhill from there. This was inspired by the fact that there was no mention of Yashiro's fate after that day on the roof. Be warned this is, for the most part, in the perspective of Yashiro and therefore parts of it come off as unstable. It is rated M for later chapters. Enjoy!
1. An Unsent Letter

_Chapter 1 - An Unsent Letter to My Satoru_

 **A/N**

 **Pairing: Yashiro x Satoru**

 **Disclaimer: All characters are property of Erased and its creator(s) and do not belong to me.**

 **Note: This fan fiction is based off the anime, and NOT the manga version.**

* * *

Dear Satoru,

Let me start by saying this: I was the one to pull you out of the car that day you know. In a frenzy, panicked after my momentary shock I pulled you out of the car and that frozen water. I was too late, I thought. I didn't understand it then, the way I only began to understand when you spoke to me on the rooftop that day we both almost died. I needed you. I never meant to kill you, not really. That sounds… stupid, I know. But some part of me thought that that day you would know what was going to happen, the way you knew about everything else I had tried to do. It was like a game at that point: a game of never ending tag. It wasn't supposed to end. You were supposed to _know_. I don't know how, the how didn't matter, but you were supposed to _know_ and stop it. You were supposed to live for me. The erratic pulsing in my veins and the churning in my gut told me, too late, that you really couldn't escape. That you might actually _die_. Who would play this game with me then?

Satoru. My Satoru. You were supposed to escape. When you didn't I dove in to get you. How else did you think you got out alive? You would have truly drowned that day if it weren't for me. But then, all those years I thought to myself, if it weren't for me… You wouldn't have been in that coma. All those years I spent waiting for you to wake up for me. You weren't dead, but you weren't alive. I knew, because I didn't see the spider's thread above your head, that you were going to wake up, going to live. But when? _When?_ When would you wake up for me?

And then, I thought, what would happen when you did? When you woke up and remembered everything, would I not have to kill you to keep you quiet? But I didn't want that. I didn't want to kill you anymore. I never, really, had. Not you. So then, how? How could I keep you from turning me into the police? The answer was simple. When you woke up, I would kidnap you. I would take you away to a place, a room, where only I would have access to you. I would have you to myself. Your small body would be easy enough for me to carry when you woke up. When you woke up. When would you wake up? I waited. I kept waiting. I prepared you know. I prepared a room for you, a bed and washroom and books and chains, hidden away for when the day came. But it didn't come. And you kept getting bigger. You were a teenager now: longer from head to toe and fingertip to fingertip. But still thin, lightweight from the lack of muscle. It would be easy enough still, I thought, to carry you away. If need be I could always put you in a wheel chair and wheel you out in an unsuspicious manner. It would be difficult for you to fight me. You wouldn't be able to ever fight me. You had no muscle from the years of lying motionless to do so with.

With that realization my desires began to run a little deeper, in a different direction. All the things I'd be able to do to you when you woke up and were too weak to fight me, alone with me captive in a room where I would be your God, came flooding to me. Your body was older now, less childlike, and it started sparking my imagination. You grew facial hair. I remember shaving it, smiling, thinking I would probably always have to be the one to shave your facial hair. I liked that thought, that I would be the only one to have that privilege. I could shave you in other places too, once I took you away. Once you woke up.

You had to wake up first, Satoru. If you didn't wake up, didn't become conscious, it was meaningless. Yes you were still alive, but not really. Still it was amazing what you did to me, that even without being awake you still filled the hole in my heart. You filled it even better than the killings did. When I killed, I felt like a God. Like a **_God_** , Satoru. It calmed me and gave my life meaning. To have control over others, so much control that I could even kill them if I wanted to, was a beautiful thing that calmed the tapping. You see? I needed it, to kill. But that was before you. The tapping just wouldn't stop Satoru. The tapping in my head that ran through my body all the way to my bones and made me lose control of my fingers. The tapping would not stop. Until you.

At first…. At first you were like any other: an unimpressive child. The tapping was still there. It even got worse because of what you did. You kept what I wanted from me and that made it worse. But it wasn't your fault Satoru. I know that now. And when I realized it all those years ago, after you kept messing with my plans, I realized that it was more fun to play with you then it was to kill them. Maybe that was what I had been looking for all along. Not the killing, in and of itself, but maybe I had been waiting for someone to ruin my plans. Like Spice.

I never told you about Spice, did I? The hamster that ruined my plans. I had tried to kill it, drown it like I tried to do to you, only it didn't die. Just like I thought you wouldn't die. Do you understand now Satoru? Am I going too fast? My thoughts are a mess as I'm writing this to you so I will reiterate. You weren't supposed to die. You were supposed to ruin my plans like you always did. That's why I want you to understand, to forgive me. I regret it. I regret it so much Satoru. I regretted it everyday. Every time I'd see your sleeping face I thought to myself, if I hadn't done what I did we could be together right now. I waited and waited. It went by so slowly. So painfully slowly. You have no idea. You said it, that day on the roof, but you have no idea. Fifteen years. That's even longer than the time you had been alive when I almost killed you. Fifteen years of wasted time, when you could have been awake with me. We could have been playing our game. I could have been touching you in a way other than just shaving your face in an observed hospital room with cameras everywhere so that I couldn't even sneak a kiss for fear that they would find out. It wasn't worth it. If they found out they would have made me stop visiting you. I couldn't allow that. So I waited. Always waiting. And then it happened.

You woke up. You woke up Satoru when I wasn't there. I will forgive you for this, if only because I am too happy that you woke up at all. I will forgive you for waking up without me being there and for ruining the plan that I would immediately kidnap you when you did. That's alright. Honestly it probably wouldn't have worked out well anyway, I thought. At that point you were much larger. Still lightweight but I definitely would have had to have used a wheelchair. But then… But then… But then after I recovered from my overwhelming joy that you were finally _finally_ awake, it occurred to me once again that you might tell the police what had occurred. This sent me into a brief panic, if only because that might make things a little more complicated. Not that I feared the police at that point. You had no evidence. But what if someone tried to keep me from you because you feared me? It would make it harder to kidnap you. It would break my heart Satoru, if you tried to fight being with me. I had already waited this long, don't make me wait longer I thought.

So when I heard that you had no memory of the event… You can't imagine the relief I felt. It bought me time. You would be vulnerable, unaware of my intentions. I would have you after all. When I went to the hospital to see you for the first time… words cannot express what I felt. It was like puzzles pieces fitting together. There must be other kinds of fate, kinds other than just the fate of death I see with the spider's thread. And you I and were fated, connected. I couldn't see those strings, but I felt them. I still feel them Satoru. They've only grown stronger since that day on the roof. You were right about everything. You know me better than anyone. So I'm hoping you'll understand the reason why you and I aren't together at this very moment. When I saw you awake for the first time, you were so beautiful. But you were so weak. In my fantasies that had been a good thing, but then seeing it in front of me I realized that you needed to get at least a little stronger. Strong enough so that we could play, so I could fuck you, without breaking you. So I let you stay in the hospital. Just a little longer, I told myself. For your sake. Consider it my apology to you, for putting you in the car that day. I would let you get a little stronger before taking you away. We had time after all, with your memories gone. And I got to watch you. That helped, getting to watch you and talk to you. It eased some of my never-ending anxiety.

That day on the roof… It wasn't supposed to happen like that. I was going to take you with me, but I only had to look into your eyes to know that your memories had returned. I had no choice but to take you to the roof, to talk to you away from prying ears. I was going to explain everything to you. I was. But then I saw your hand in your pocket, recording everything. And I knew you had no intention of listening to me. You wanted to get away from me, to get rid of me. I can't say I blame you. You didn't understand. You hadn't let me explain it yet. But I still felt betrayed. I couldn't help the stab I felt in my chest. It brought the bitterness out in me. I said things I didn't mean. And then you tried to kill yourself. Or so I thought. You have no idea what that did to me. My heart almost stopped. How dare you, I thought, try to take your own life. How dare you kill yourself after all those years I waited for you. It was unforgivable. And then when I saw your beautiful face inches from supposed death... You looked like an angel Satoru. An angel that had forgiven me of everything. I knew. We were meant to be together. And if I couldn't have you in life, if I couldn't take you away, then we would die together. We would be together in death. And then… You ruined my plans. You ruined them beautifully. I couldn't help but laugh. That was what was supposed to have happened fifteen years ago. But that was okay. Better late than never. And I knew after that, after you ruined my plans as you were meant to, that our game was still in play. And it would continue, for as long as we live.

You are my world Satoru. I don't know, don't understand, what you meant on the roof when you said you have lived this life a number of times but… Is there any way we can have a happy ending? Did you see that, when you looked into the future? Is there a happy ending? One where I have you all to myself. Because I need it. There is no happy ending for me otherwise. I can make you love me, if that would make it easier for you. I can be very charming when I want to be, as I'm sure you know. I don't know if what I feel for you is love, but I know you are my world. If that isn't love, I don't know what is. Nonetheless I will make you dependent on me. I will become your world Satoru, as you have become mine, whether you want it or not.

I am almost done now. You will never read this letter. That's okay. I will tell it to you one day, one day soon. Because my date in court is tomorrow and I plan on walking away a free man. I have already bribed those necessary for it. I will be released of all charges and I will find you. It won't be hard to find you. And this scandal will no doubt ruin my career but that's fine. That's better even. Because that means that when I take you away, to that hidden room that I've carefully prepared all these years, no one will notice when I disappear with you. I will be careful, don't worry. I will find a body and put it in your apartment, and burn everything. It will look like an accident. People will think you died in the fire. Maybe your friends will be suspicious. It won't matter. I know how to cover my tracks. And you and I will be together. Soon Satoru.

Yashiro


	2. Caught in the Web

Chapter 2 – Caught in the Web

 **Disclaimer** **: Characters still don't belong to me.**

 **A/N:** **First off, thank you to everyone who left a review. They are much appreciated and make writing this stuff worthwhile. After all, I could've written it and kept it all to myself now, couldn't I? You wouldn't want that.**

 **And sorry for the long wait. I've been working on a lot of other stories. That's no excuse, I know. But here you are. Enjoy. And please, take the time to read the notes at the end of the story. Thank you!**

 _Satoru's POV_

I lost my life from age 11 to 25. But that lost time itself is my treasure. In a town only without me, my friends spent the precious spare time in their lives on my behalf.

"Heroes always come running in at the last minute!" I hear someone say, and laughter follows. I look into the classroom and see everyone: Kayo and Kenya, Hiromi and Aya. Even Jun is there, standing and waiting for me in my old classroom.

"Here's Satoru!"

"You're late!"

"Finally!"

"Took you long enough!" They were all happy to see me, the child me.

"As usual. Because he's stupid," Kayo says with a smile. She always did love insulting me. But it was okay, because they were all okay. They were alive and happy, the way they were supposed to be.

A town without me alone… Time without me alone… That's my treasure. I think this to myself as I run towards them, grinning happily like the stupid idiot Kayo always declared me to be.

And now I am an adult: a manga artist, the way I always wanted to be. The agency always loved to work with me.

"You're blowing me away! I love it when you take the bull by the horns, Sensei!" And I smile politely, demurely, at the compliment.

"Then I'll keep going in this direction," I say gently.

"Sorry to have you come all the way out here," the agent apologizes. "Are you going on a trip?"

"Yes. After this, I'm going back to Hokkaido to see old friends." Because, naturally, I would want to visit my friends between work.

"Oh, that's right." He opened the door for me, ushering me out with an enthusiastic smile. "And I almost forgot!" He exclaims as he shuts the door behind us. "Congratulations on the upcoming anime version!" And I smile at the poster, the beautiful poster of my hard work being recognized. I couldn't ask for more.

And then I visit my friends. We go out to drink and I have the pleasure of being surrounded by their warmth and love. Maybe I even meet a girl… No. No, it can't be just any girl.

I go back home. I work on my manga even more, and then on a day not like other days, a day where it snows more than it had in years, I go outside under a bridge. The bridge. I'm not waiting, exactly, but I am hoping. Just as I get up to leave I see it: the blue butterfly, the symbol of my Revival. I follow it with my hands, wondering what the view will lead me to. And then I see her: Airi. She was older now than she was when we first met, in my first life, but it is undeniably her.

She runs up to me, under the bridge, camera in hand and not a spark of recognition on her face. She is probably a photographer now. She always was the free-spirited type, so being a photographer would suit her. "Can you believe this snow?" She asks breathlessly as she approaches me. She brushes off some snow from her clothes. "They said on TV it's the most the Kanto region has had in ten years!" She pulls back her cap, and long beautiful brown hair falls in cascades down her shoulders and back. This was my chance: my second chance to be with her. Still smiling brightly she asks, "Can I take shelter with you from the snow?" And I would reply…

The loud creak of the metal door interrupts my thoughts. _His_ voice rings out, completely shattering the idyllic scene. "I'm back Satoru! I brought dinner!" My fantasies come to an end.

 _Yashiro's POV_

It was good to be home. Or rather, it was good to be back near my Satoru. Within visual parameters of my Satoru. Within reaching and touching distance of my Satoru. That was where it was good to be.

"I'm sorry it took so long. You must have been lonely without me," I say with a smile as I begin putting away the groceries. I sneak a glance at Satoru, who is clearly awake but lying motionless and unresponsive on the bed. The loose chain around his ankle seems to have remained unmoved, in the same spot and position it had been when I left early. I can guess what he had been doing while I was away.

"What were you daydreaming about this time? Hmm?" I ask, not really interested but wanting to provoke a response, any response, from him. "Being a manga artist again? Maybe seeing your friends? Or your mother?" I don't need to look at him to know that is still staring, blank-faced, at the wall. "Well it doesn't matter," I continue, because it didn't. It didn't matter. He was here now. He was mine. His little fantasies didn't, couldn't, change that.

"Are you hungry? I can begin preparing dinner now if you'd like," I offer. I pause, giving him more than sufficient time to reply. "Not hungry then I see." Clearly, I was going to have to step this up a notch if I wanted a response. "Perhaps a bath?" I amuse aloud. Out of the corner of my eye I see him, almost unnoticeably, flinch. "A bath it is then."

The washroom was a small space, barely large enough for the two of us to fit in together, but it was state of the art and modern in every sense of the word. I had spared no expense, preparing all those years, to make sure it would lack for nothing. But like the main room, which consisted of a large bed and a small cooking space, it wasn't about being modern. It was about durability. I couldn't have anything breaking down could I? It wasn't worth the risk. It was a shame I couldn't grow enough food for the two of us as well. Then I would never have to let Satoru out of my sight, not even for a moment. And if I were being honest with myself, I was happy for the small space. It meant Satoru and I were closer at all times.

Satoru sits on the stool, skin soaked from when I had rinsed his body clean. My hands, washing Satoru's back now, slide all over his skin trying to soak up the feel of him. As corny as it sounded, every time I touched Satoru was like the first time. The wonder, no… the relief I felt every time I touched him was irreplaceable. His body, his presence, was a necessity for me now. My mind can no longer tolerate his absence. Being away from him even for just a little while, like getting the groceries, made me go into withdrawals. The tapping would start up again, the tapping in my head that told me all the things I didn't want to hear.

Satoru was probably gone, it would tell me. Satoru had probably escaped. In the time I've been out Satoru might have gotten hurt. He might have gotten hurt while trying to escape. Or perhaps someone found him. They were trying to take him away right now. Right this instant someone was pulling Satoru farther and farther away from me, taking him to a place I wouldn't be able to reach him. I would probably never get to touch or see Satoru _again_.

And no matter how I argued with the tapping, told myself that there was no way he could escape, that he was too weak or that I had planned everything perfectly, the tapping wouldn't go away and my heart wouldn't stop thundering in my chest until I returned to him. The tapping I'd been plagued with since childhood used to be an indistinct noise that only calmed when I killed. But now it chanted his name.

 _Satoru. Satoru. Satoru._

It whispered his name to me constantly, and only calmed when I was with him. Not until I saw him with my own eyes, in the home I had made for us, would the tapping quiet. And not until I was really touching him, kissing him, fucking him, would the tapping go completely silent. It was only when I was touching Satoru, that I was at peace.

 _Satoru's POV_

"It was quite cold out today," Yashiro mentions. "Were you comfortable inside? It was warm enough, wasn't it?" I would not respond. I would not give him any kind of response. After an extended period of silence he attempts to make conversation again. "I bought more paper at the store today. There is plenty if you want to draw again." I had used drawing a lot in the beginning as a coping mechanism, trying to escape the dreary reality of imprisonment. When was the last time I had drawn anything? "I hope you like what I bought for dinner. It's been a while since you've eaten any meat. I plan on making Gyūdon. Would you like that?" Still silence on my part. I knew what Yashiro wanted and I would not, _would not_ , give it to him.

"Satoru?" He prompts. "Oh come now Satoru, don't sulk. Speak to me." He grabs my face, fingers digging into my gaunt cheeks, pulling my face around and into his. We were inches, maybe less, from touching mouth to mouth. I say nothing, willing myself to remain as defiant as possible. "Satoru," he whispers again. "Satoru." The now soft murmur of my name on his lips makes me shudder. I reflexively close my eyes, knowing what was coming next. "Satoru. Satoru." He continues to murmur as he places kiss after kiss on my lips, my nose, my cheeks, my eyelids. Any stretch of skin I possess has been brushed against by this man's mouth, over and over in between pants of my name. I never can decide if he is worshipping me, or cursing me each time he says it. "Satoru."

His peppered kisses trail to other places: my ears, my jawline, my throat. His body is draped over mine, pressed against it, clothes soaked completely now. His arms wrap around my body like a harness, trying to press our bodies closer than humanly possible. He always did like to stay too close to me, at all times. I can feel the unmistakable sensation of his tongue dart out and trail itself thoroughly across my skin. From my shoulder to my throat, over and over repeatedly, his tongue licks me like a starving man would lick the image of food. His arms tighten around me, caging me, so tightly that I find myself gasping as the air is pushed from my lungs.

My involuntary gasp, more from surprise than pain, must bring him back to reality (or as close to reality as Yashiro can get) because he quickly releases me. Instead his hands, shaking, trail their way gently down my sides and come to rest at my waist. The only sounds in the room were the echoing splashes of water, and Yashiro's uneven breathing. I try not to make a sound; even harder than before I try not to make a sound. This was one of those crucial moments, I was only beginning to understand, if I made a sound, any sound, it could cause Yashiro's restraint to snap.

I try not to breathe. I pray he cannot hear the slight racing my heart has taken on. I did not want to provoke him further. If I could just remain still, remain quiet, he was more likely to lose interest. It took me a long time to learn this, but once I did I took to implementing the strategy in any way I could.

He wanted me to draw. I would not draw. He wanted me to move. I would not move. He wanted me to talk. I would not talk. If I could not escape him then I would, at the very least, not give him what he wanted. I could not bear the look on his face when he got what he wanted from me.

Yashiro takes a deep breath. Calms himself. Sometimes I can feel it: the uneasiness radiating from him in waves. It was like he was afraid I'd disappear from him at any moment, possibly right before his eyes. He was right to be worried about that.

"I've made a bit of a mess haven't I?" he whispers in my ear. His hand trails down to my knee, stroking the skin along my leg. "Ah well. It doesn't matter. Hey. Why don't we shave your legs? It's been a while since we've done that, hm?" It's only been four or five days. But I don't tell him that. I don't make any indication I care at all.

He doesn't have to go far to retrieve the razor and cream but he hums, sickeningly happy, as he goes to get it. "Your hair is getting longer. Perhaps I should cut that soon too." He stands in front of me now. He looks down with that sickeningly cheerful smile, holding that razor that glints like a knife he could stab me with. "Of course I do like your hair long. Perhaps we should keep this way." He's bending down now, kneeling to get everything ready. "That reminds me. Today I saw the cutest hair tie at the store. I didn't buy it, of course, but now I kind of wish I had. Maybe next time I will." That tone. It's the same low tone he gets when he's thinking rotten things. "You might look cute if I did your hair up like a girl. What do you think?" I can feel his hot stare on my face. I won't look at him. I won't say anything.

He hums a little to himself at my lack of response. "Alright. Shall we shave you now? This shouldn't take long so just bear with the position for a bit. Here, let me help you." As usual he takes to moving my body like it's his doll. Arranging me in an embarrassing position that gives him full access to my legs and my entire lower body. Right leg pulled up and over his shoulder, an unnecessarily vulnerable position. "That's a good boy," he says with a smile. That remark almost makes my face twitch with resentment, but I manage it hold it back.

I used to panic in the beginning, when he first attempted to shave me, but now I feel no fear as the razor approaches my legs. He does each stroke painfully slowly, though if this is out of caution or an attempt to provoke me I have no idea. I close my eyes and let my head fall back. It only made me more anxious to watch him and this showed him I was immune to his tactics.

I have to wonder about his fascination with shaving me. My legs, my face, my nether regions. He seemed to get a great deal of enjoyment from shaving these places. In the beginning I had refused, struggled against him even, but it did no good. There were many things I had fought him on in the beginning. I had shouted and cussed and struggled to the point of exhaustion on a daily basis. Yet he always had a smile on his face, like he was happy about that. He never lost his temper or retaliated, no matter what I did. But when I fought him on the shaving issue… He would get this manic look in his eyes, like he would bind my arms and legs until I was immobile if that was what it took. It was the first time I had been afraid of him since the kidnapping.

He hums softly, almost inaudibly, as he makes his way over and over my leg. I can feel his long fingers massaging the calf of my right leg, the leg he rested on his shoulder. Why would he even need to put my leg on his shoulder? The only reason I could imagine was to upset me. He wanted to remind me I was at his mercy. But I already knew that.

Revival hadn't happened once since the coma. I had held out hope that it could, at any time, happen once again and let me fix this timeline. But every day, another day goes by where I remain trapped. Under his thumb, there is nothing I can do but remain defiant. And yet… It was getting harder. I was losing my energy, my will even, to defy him. Even now, trying to remain seemingly impassive, I felt like I was losing myself. When was the last time I had even tried to escape?

I feel a strange sensation, hot and wet and not quite hard, against my right leg. I open my eyes to see what it could be, only to see Yashiro licking the now smooth and clean skin of my leg. I hadn't even noticed when he had finished shaving me, or rinsed me clean. I hadn't even noticed that Yashiro had gone silent, no words and no hum, because he was so focused on my body. Licking and sucking the thin, unattractive, limb like it was something beautiful. It was not something beautiful.

My body, verging on broken, was not something even I could appreciate. The muscles of my legs were nearly atrophied, and since being taken captive I had no opportunity to make them any stronger. This only made me more dependent on him, and I hated it. It was a hellish thing.

His mouth sucks hard at my leg, leaving another mark among the many. After doing this he looks at me, eyes sharp and a little wild. He looked like he wanted to eat me. And here I was, leg still propped up on his shoulder, hands immobile at my sides, ready to be devoured. I was trapped, my limbs all held open on display, to be eaten whenever Yashiro felt like it. I was caught in his web, and he wouldn't let me go.

"You taste so good Satoru," he breathes on my leg. My heart skips a beat in my chest but I try, I _try_ , not to let that show on my face.

I was losing myself. In his stare that could pin me without the use of anything else, I was losing myself. I was losing my mind. How could I keep fighting him? No matter what I did he won. Whether I screamed at the top of my lungs or lost my voice, whether I struggled with all my might or went still, he won. Nothing I did could deter him. He was going to eat me whole. He was going to make me respond to him.

I wouldn't respond to him. I wouldn't respond to him. I wouldn't respond to him.

"Satoru…" His voice is gentler now as puts my leg back down and lowers himself to kisses them. He looks up at me frequently, wanting to see if I would react to his touch.

I won't react. I won't react.

I want to look away but if I can't. His eyes keep calling for my attention, to watch him as he moves higher and higher up my legs. My cock twitches with the anticipation of being kissed and licked and sucked too. Shit.

Don't get hard. Don't get hard. Don't get hard.

"Satoru," he mumbles to himself again. Why did he have to say my name like that?! Why?! Stop saying my name like that! Stop saying my name like you worshipped me and hated me at the same time! Stop it!

His face was at my dick now, hovering just above the mostly soft piece of flesh, his breathe ticking it. He was such an asshole.

The first time he touched me sexually, the first time he raped me, was horrible. It was horrible because it wasn't painful. He had made it feel good. Made me cum. It was not the first time I had ever had sex; in my original timeline I had had sex with a girl or two, but this hadn't been anything like those other times. I had never felt more ashamed in my life. And I swore to myself that I would do anything it took it keep that from happening again. So while he could force me, he could use me all he liked, I would not give him the satisfaction of wringing my own pleasure from me.

But I failed. I failed time and time again because he cheated. He cheated and used all kinds of methods to make me feel good and I hated him for that.

And so I repeat these things in my head again and again. I will not respond to him. I do not want him touching me. I _hate_ him. I tell myself these things… But I don't know how much longer I can keep telling myself these things, and believe them.

"Satoru," he pants, "let's go back to the bed."

 _Yashiro's POV_

His mouth tasted so good, so good, so good. I bite harder at his lower lip, tugging it open further so that I could properly thrust my tongue into his mouth. I wanted to drink up his salvia, wanted to dive my tongue so deep down his throat that he'd choke on it. God how I wanted him to choke on me. And God how I wanted to choke on him. Eat him up, swallow him whole and absolutely _devour_ him. I needed him in me, needed to be in him: contradictory statements that were no less true. If only we could merge properly, somehow melt together, then I would never be apart from him. And he would never be free from me. If only…

His eyes are scrunched up tighter now than they were before, a result of my enthusiastic tongue playing and tracing and exploring in his mouth. This small reaction wasn't enough for me. I needed him to react more. This had become our game recently, to see how long it would take me to get him to react, to respond to me in any manner possible. This wasn't my win yet. I wouldn't consider it my win until his composure was completely shattered. Bonus points if he begged for me.

My hands brush against the skin of Satoru's stomach, just grazing it with the tips of my fingers and then with my knuckles. He is sprawled out before me on the bed, his body just waiting.

I had long memorized every inch of him, but even still the wonder I feel when touching him has yet to fade. I still want, more than anything, to connect with him constantly. I surprise myself. I am surprised that I can touch him so gently when everything inside me wants to consume him. Maybe it was because he was still weak after all this time; he was still weak and fragile from those years in the coma. He had only just left the hospital when I stole him away from the world, and he still couldn't walk without crutches at the time. Without being able to continue his physical therapy at the hospital, he had no opportunity to grow stronger. Indeed he was still very helpless, so helpless he had no choice but to rely on me for nearly everything. It was a beautiful thing.

It did surprise me though, some of the things he knew how to do on his own. It puzzled me, for example, that he knew how to shave his facial hair. He had insisted upon it and I allowed it, the first time, because I thought he would cut himself and I could use that as an excuse to always do it for him. He had not cut himself. Not a single nick. Perhaps one of his friends taught him while I was away, I considered. But there were other things: his art, for instance. He was not this skilled an artist before the coma, as a child. I would know this, as his teacher. But now he drew frequently with the skill of someone who had years of experience. Was this an effect of the coma? That seemed unlikely. Didn't drawing rely on muscle memory? Surely he couldn't have achieved such skill without practice. Unless it was one of those unexplainable phenomena that occurred from life altering events. I couldn't be sure. Satoru was a mystery. But I liked that.

His skin was peppered with dark multi-colored bruises; not from me hitting him, I would never hit him, but from all the times I bit and sucked his skin to leave my mark. There wasn't a body part of his that didn't have multiple marks from me. Blue and purple and green marks that showed: I had seen there, I had touched there, that belonged to me. It didn't matter, really, whether I marked him or not for the sole reason that no one besides me ever saw him or ever would see him again. But I enjoyed it. I got a rush of satisfaction every time I saw his evidence of my touch.

I hover over him, leaning down to lick at his stomach. He was still moist from the shower, still clean and smelling of soap. I enjoyed showering him for many reasons, many many reasons, but one of them being that I could make him clean. Because I loved making him dirty. Sweaty, smelling of sex and me, I loved taking a clean Satoru and destroying it by covering him in me.

I lick around his belly button, the tip of my tongue trailing around and around and then down lower and lower. For someone who actually had a sweet tooth the bitter flavor of another person's body was typically unappealing. But Satoru was an exception. The taste of his skin was addictive. Another reason one of my favorite activities was showering him, was because I would get to lick all the water on his skin. It wasn't so must that his skin tasted better wet than dry, it was just because he always reacted so much more from it. But I preferred fucking him out of the shower, when we were both dry, because it was so much more satisfying to smell his scent at its peak. The water always ruined it by washing away the smell if we fucked in there.

My tongue follows his happy trail, the little bit of hair I allow because it was so irresistibly lewd. His pubic hair was starting to grow back again. I had meant to shave it in the shower this time but I simply couldn't wait any longer. I was always more impatient on days I left Satoru, even if just for a little while.

His cock is still limp, but I can tell from the deep rise and fall of his stomach that it was taking a great deal of effort and control to keep it that way. Let's see what I could do to fuck with that control.

My mouth is so close to his dick. It would be easy to take him into my mouth and suck him hard, suck him off. But that wasn't good enough.

My one hand reaches up to his chest, caressing, teasing the area around his nipples. Light strokes, always light strokes. Teasing touches. I knew that drove him mad. My other hand reaches down to his thigh, groping it with varying pressures, to bring attention to his lower body. All while my face nuzzles the side of his cock, my breath hot on his skin, letting Satoru know I was here. I was waiting.

I can feel him trying to resist the urge to squirm. He wasn't as skilled at playing passive as he believed he was. Satoru was an expressive man, and there was no way he could keep up this aloof act for long.

Fingertips swirl around and around the edge of his nipples. Hands grope at his legs with affection. It didn't take long for his dick to twitch. And then from a twitch to a gentle hardening. I dip my tongue out and trace along the head of his cock. I shouldn't take him into my mouth, not yet. He hasn't asked for it. But I indulge myself by dipping the tip of my tongue into the slit of his dick, getting a good taste of him. With this he becomes fully hard, and that is when things finally get interesting.

His detachment shatters. He instinctually tries to hide his face with his arm, ashamed that he was once again hard from my touch. My Satoru was just so cute. It didn't matter that he was a twenty-something year old male. He was cute.

Encouraged by the unusual quickness at which Satoru had given in, I take him fully into my mouth and suck hard. He emits a small gasp of surprise at the sudden sensation, but then does his best to be quiet again. That was fine. I was going to enjoy drawing noises out from him.

I let my fingers press harder at his nipple, the bud of it hardening as I pinch and roll it between my fingers. The feel of his skin, the warmth of his body heat, it was a beautiful thing. It put my mind at ease.

I let my salvia coat his dick, making it all the easier to slide my mouth up and down the shaft of it. I can feel little shivers, currents of trembles, radiating through Satoru. He was trying so hard. It was so cute.

While I could keep at this for a while, sucking his dick like a candy, I was really impatient today. I wanted to be inside him.

I lift my mouth away and grab his hips, effectively flipping him over onto his stomach. Satoru grunts his disapproval before remembering that he was trying to be silent. I yank his hips back and up, putting his ass high in the air on display. Satoru was still too weak to get into difficult positions, and even now he had to rely on my strength to remain in this one. His hips shake, unsteady, only remaining propped because of the support of my hands. It was kind of sexy to see his ass wiggling involuntarily like that.

The curve of his hip, the smoothness of his skin, it makes me shudder. God the roundness of his ass was incredible. Despite the rest of his Satoru being so thin, almost terribly horribly thin, his ass was still round and firm. I really would have to get my Satoru to eat more. But ever since I had drugged his food that one time with aphrodisiacs, Satoru had been eating less and less. Indeed it had become a chore to get Satoru to eat at all. But that was a concern for another time.

I pull his ass cheeks apart, lazily, spreading his hole open for me. I can feel my eyelids get heavily and lower, the lovely sight of the offering before me too beautiful to ignore. I dip my face in for just a little taste: an appetizer before the main course. I had never imagined myself the type to lick anyone's ass. But then, I had never imagined myself to the type to suck another man's dick. It was Satoru's fault. He made me do this.

I tongue his entrance with enthusiasm, digging in as deep as I am able. I can feel the vibration of him holding back a moan, and it reverberating throughout his body. So cute. One of my hands slips down to tease his dick while I tongue him. It was still slick with salvia and silky to the touch. I press a fingertip to his slit and find the sticky, undeniable texture of precum. Oh how I enjoyed making his dick weep for me.

I give him a few quick pumps before releasing him, both my hands coming back to rest on his hips. And pulling back from his as. Lube. I needed lube.

I lean over and fumble in the drawer by the bed. It was easy to find. It doesn't take me long to slather it along the crack of his ass. He flinches at the cold slimy feel of it, but we both know its necessary. The liquid dribbles down his ass and over his balls. It was messy, incredibly messy, but it was also hot.

I push a finger in, then two, quick shallow thrusts just to make sure his insides were coated well enough. I was losing patience. It was so hot and tight inside him. I wanted more of me in there.

My clothes are quickly discarded. I would have been rid of them sooner, if I hadn't thought that would put off Satoru. After all, I had to play his game. I smear the lube on my own rigid member, trying to remain levelheaded enough to take this slow.

I carefully align the head of my dick to his hole, the slick lube making me over eager. With a deep breath I push, only part of the way, then pull back and in again. Shallow consistent thrusts, letting his body open up for me at its own pace. He doesn't cry out like he usually does, but I can tell from the shaking of his hips that is undeniably feeling me.

When I'm fully seated inside, the full length of me in him, I sigh with satisfaction. It was hotter inside Satoru than inside any woman. Having his heat surround me, having his ass clench on my cock, I could never get tired of it.

I start with a few gentle, well-placed thrusts. Almost instantly I can feel his ass clamp down tighter, and I know I'm hitting the area he loves so much. With that encouragement I use my hands on his waist to pull his ass harder against me. I expect him to moan, but I hear nothing. Discouraged I push into him again and again, faster and faster, until I have a steady rhythm that would turn him into a drooling mess. But still nothing. No sounds. Not a moan or a pant to be heard. That wasn't right.

I twist my head to get a closer look. Had he buried his face in the pillow? No. He was using his left hand to cover his mouth, to keep himself from making noise. I couldn't have that. I reach for his wrist, yanking it backwards hard so that his spine was now pulled taunt in an arc to keep his shoulder from snapping. I had never seen anything sexier in my life.

A cry escapes him. It was a cry of light pain, but even more so of indignity that he could no longer hide the noises he was making. The sounds. The _sounds_. They go to my head like alcohol, like a drug. They wrap themselves around my brain and hold it hostage. The slapping of flesh. The squishing of liquid juices. The moans and pants of not only Satoru but of myself.

"Yashiro! Stop! Stop!"

He squirmed and squirmed beneath me, hands clawing at the bed sheets, desperate to get away from the vigorous stabbing of my dick. He couldn't go anywhere.

My hips kept thrusting, despite the persistent wriggling beneath me. My breathing was coming harder now, more labored. I think he screams. I can't tell if the sound is from pain or pleasure now. He is spasming under me. Full body spasms, jerks and shudders as I fuck myself into his body.

I caught him. He was mine now. No one would take him from me.

The air is hot and thick, heavy with the smell of sweat and sex. This was the smell of us, of our bodies joining. It was intoxicating. My mind is so high on Satoru that it takes me longer than it should have to realize he was no longer struggling. He lay still under me, panting hard, sweat coating his face and making his bangs stick to his forehead. The extra salty tang in the air, along with these signs, tell me one thing.

He came. He came!

The thought of Satoru cumming from my dick has me nearing my limit. But there was one thing I wanted first. I press myself deeper into him, trying to get my mouth as close to his ear as possible.

"Say you need me Satoru. Come on. Say it. Say you need me." Having my Satoru say he needed me was better than being told he loved me any day. Love was only a tool to get to the higher purpose, to make Satoru _need_ me. If Satoru needed me, then love was unnecessary. As long as Satoru needed me, everything would be fine.

He's motionless now. His weak body exhausted from his kind of exertion. He was helpless beneath me. It was so sexy. I could feel the tension in my balls rising, the pressure that been building about to burst. "Satoru!" I try to prompt. But he isn't saying anything. He looks like he is too wrecked to think anything, let alone speak. I can't stop myself, can't hold back.

"Ahhhhh!" The sound of my own release rings in my ears, a long drawn out moan that sounded more like pain than anything. I ride out the pulsing of my orgasm inside Satoru's heat, my eyes blind to anything but the destroyed look on his face.

The messy, sticky sound of wet thrusts are music to my ears. I want to savor it just a bit more before I pull out, before I go completely soft. The thought that my cum was inside him, being stirred up inside him, marking him was so erotic I considered going for another round. Ah, but Satoru's body wouldn't be able to handle that.

I release his left arm, allowing his back to finally settle into a normal position, before pulling out slowly. Some of my seed spills out when I do, leaking down his balls like the lube had. How fucking satisfying.

I'm still holding his waist up with my right hand, his ass still high in the air. He doesn't try to move. He was so perfect.

I think he still didn't understand, no matter how many times I said it, just what he meant to me. But he would understand. I just had to keep repeating it and he would understand.

"You are mine now Satoru," I whisper in his ear. "Only mine. Don't ever forget that." There was no clearer message than that.

Satoru's hips fall completely, body collapsing on the bed, as I move away from him. I don't bother to hook the chain back up to his leg. He couldn't go anywhere right now if he wanted to. But I should probably make the food.

As I prepare the meal, I go through a list of things I would need to do before the day was over. Change the sheets. Wash Satoru again. Clean the bathroom. I hear Satoru stir after a little while, body stretching a little on the bed. I wonder if he was going to keep up our game for the rest of the day. Would he go back to being silent again? How annoying.

"You know your old friend Kenya is still trying to find me," I tell him, positive that he was listening. "He's quite persistent. Even your mother knew when to give up at some point. He really is quite troublesome as a lawyer. His connections really are quite problematic. Perhaps I should get rid of him." Satoru visibly flinches, no longer able to hold up the appearance of apathy. And it made something deep in my chest grow dark. It burned me up inside that he still cared so deeply for someone else. "Unless you think I shouldn't." The truth was that I had no real intention of going after Kenya. It was unnecessary and wasn't worth the risk. But did Satoru know that? And if not, what would he be willing to give to keep me from realizing my empty threat?

I could have, of course, have threatened him earlier with this. Indeed I could have threatened the life of his family and friends since the beginning if I had really desired his cooperation at any cost. But this was better. It was better for Satoru to know, to understand, to live with the undeniable knowledge that he gave himself to me without the use of coercion. I may have forced to stay here with me, but I did not force him to have sex with me. Only the first time did I do it without permission, if only, to make him understand how good it could be between us. After that, it was only because he allowed me to.

Satoru sits up on the bed, staring at me. I stare back. He pulls his knees up towards his chest, wrapping his arms around them and buries his face in his legs. I feel a strange twinge in my chest, as though I had the urge to comfort him. Reassure him. Apologize to him. But I don't. We were too far deep in this for me to beginning apologizing now.

Just when I think he isn't going to reply, I hear the small whisper of his ragged voice.

"Please…" I am thrilled, if only because this is the first thing he has said to me in days that wasn't begging me to stop.

"Please what Satoru?" I ask sweetly.

"Please don't hurt Kenya. Don't… hurt anyone anymore." It warms my heart, or something like it anyway, to hear Satoru ask me so sincerely for something.

"Hmm." I pretend to consider this request. "I _could_ if that is what you wish but…" I'm cut off by his indistinct mumbling, mumbling that sounds distinctly like something important. "Hm? What was that?" I abandon the food to inch closer to the bed, to Satoru. "What did you just say?" His eyes peek up over his knees, arms still wrapped tightly around his legs.

"I… need you. Please don't hurt anyone because… I need you."

I didn't intend to smile. I always smile with intention, out of choice. This was the first time I did not choose to smile, instead I couldn't stop it if I wanted. The lightness that spread throughout my body made me think that if I had a soul, it was rejoicing.

 _Satoru's POV_

"I… need you. Please don't hurt anyone because… I need you," I plead. The words felt wrong in my mouth, but I said them anyway. I understood now. I knew what I had to do now. I had tried taking him head on, tried playing numb and neither of those worked.

I had to convince him I loved him. I had to make him fall into my web, into my trap, by making him think I fell into his. Make him think he could trust me, that I wanted him the way he wanted me. I would make him think I couldn't live without him.

Only then would he drop his guard. Only then I might get the chance to escape or, even better, use revival to keep this from ever happening. My only fear now was, what would happen if I fell to deep into the trap?

 **A/N:**

 **1) I hope you enjoyed this chapter and would like to finish off by thanking those who have already reviewed the last chapter. For those who don't have time to give a full review, or those who wish to support me by reviewing me again, I'd like to ask that you at least** **send a review with your favorite sentence or two from the chapter** **.**

 **2) I'd also like to mention that if you're interested in supporting my writing (my original work where I actually DO own the characters) then please check out my page. I just got it up and running so it's a bit sparse at this time, but the rewards are awesome. It would be seriously appreciated.**

/caden_c

 **3)** **I am considering doing more fan fictions for this pairing, so if you want a "happy" sort of fan fiction for this pairing please do let me know. If I hear from enough people then I will do so.**

 **And hey, thanks for reading!**


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